It had not been an easy matter to pilot the ship into Sylvan space.

Brok, Sillow soon learned, was no pilot, and although he knew more Tuolon than Sillow (which did help, he had to admit), he might as well have flown the damn thing single-handed. So it was with considerable relief that he dropped the ship out of hyperspace, close to his home planet.

"That's it," he said indicating the view screen. "Sylvan."

Brok looked at emerald world, crisscrossed with lines of blue and white.

"It's all forests and lakes," Sillow explained, "if you like that sort of thing. Personally, I think that's what makes it so boring."

"I was led to believe that Sylvans did not like aliens on their world," Brok noted.

Sillow shook his head. "They don't, not at all. I haven't even been down there for years, myself." He turned to the Herkulun seated by him. "But we're not going to Sylvan."

He hit a switch, and the craft turned towards a large moon, floating close by. "That's Opok," he explained. "The moon base." He sighed. "Wait till they get a load of you."

They descended onto the gray surface and angled towards a large crater. Moments later, they plunged into the darkness of a huge tunnel. The lights of the ship illuminated its rocky sides as they flew increasingly deeper.

Not even Sillow spoke as they sped along the tunnel, contenting himself with tapping a foot as his large green eyes stared out into the darkness. He knew the ship had the ability to give them a virtual display of their surroundings, but try as he might he'd been unable to learn how to access the function. Flying blind like this made him nervous.

The ship suddenly lurched, and Brok threw a worried glance at the Sylvan. "Are we safe?" he asked.

Sillow nodded. "Relax," he answered. "We just went through a force field is all. It's to seal in the artificial atmosphere."

Light flooded around them once more as the ship emerged into a massive cavern. At the base of the cavern, a huge, semi transparent dome sat on four metallic columns, flanked by two smaller, but higher, round platforms. One of these in particular seemed to be a hive of activity, swarming with figures and machinery, although it was impossible to make out any detail from that distance. The three structures were linked by transparent tubular bridges, lined in twinkling red lights.

Two objects suddenly flashed in front of the screen. To Brok, they resembled metallic eyes, but with cannons mounted on either side. Seconds later, an electronic voice filled the ship.

Sillow hit the intercom, responding in his native Sylvan. The objects did another quick circle of their craft then sped away. "Security," he explained. "Maybe our turning up in a Tuolon ship threw them a little."

Then a red light appeared around the ship and they felt the shudder of a tractor beam taking control. The craft began to descend rapidly towards the central dome. As they grew closer, it split in the center and parted, the two sides falling back to allow the ship to enter.

Lord Bahlik stared for a long time before he spoke. By the way his eyes bulged and his gold cane shook in his fat little hand, it was clear he was on the verge of apoplexy.

He'd objected to Silla Low being selected for the mission in the first place. Everyone knew what he was like, that he was completely unsuited for such a mission. And now, he'd turned up here, with an off-world barbarian!

The Herkulun's imposing figure held his anger in check for a moment but at last it exploded. "You maniac!" he cried, his heavy jowls quivering. "How could you bring an … an alien with you?"

Sillow, his own temper rising at the other Sylvan's superior manner, shook his head. "Lord Bahlik, without this alien," he retorted, "I wouldn't be here. Tell me, do you happen to know anything about the three Tuolons sent after me on Tae?"

Bahlik's portly body quivered. "Tuolons?" he stammered.

Sillow nodded. "Yes. Big ones. They blew my ship up to try to stop me leaving." He fixed the other Sylvan with a stare. "Seems to me that maybe someone might have been leaking information, tipping off the lizards as to my whereabouts."

The fat Sylvan puffed himself up indignantly. "How dare you cast suspicion on my loyalties?" he spat, hate animating his bloated features. "You know, it's no wonder you were expelled from the academy," he went on, a sneer on his lips. "In spite of your appearance, Silla Low, you are no true Sylvan. You're nothing but an orphan misfit the Elesin once took pity on, and allowed to rise above your natural, lowly status."

Brok, understanding nothing of the conversation, could nevertheless comprehend the heated tones, and the sneering contempt on the corpulent Sylvan's face. He had already grown to dislike the pompous, arrogant figure, and when he lifted his gold cane to strike Sillow, Brok decided he seen enough. He stepped in front of the intended attack, glaring down at Bahlik with cold blue eyes.

"If you use that," he rumbled, "I will break your arm."

Bahlik gasped, stepping back away from the mountain of muscle. "What did this thing say?"

"You don't want to know," Sillow answered, pleased to see the official at such a disadvantage.

Bahlik waved his staff at Brok. "You see? This is what happens when we have dealings with the lower races." His pig-like eyes flitted to Sillow. "Something you seem to have forgotten in your years off world."

As he spoke, the cane's tip tapped the Herkulun's chest.

Brok tore the cane from the Sylvan's pudgy hands and twisted the metal into a knot then let it drop to the floor.

Bahlik looked down at the broken symbol of his rank with disbelief. "Guards!" he yelled. "Get the guards in here now. I want this monster put down!"

At this, a thin figure appeared from out of the shadows. "My lord," he said soothingly, "perhaps it would be wise if you were to retire. A person of your stature need not concern yourself with the briefing details." He put a bony hand on Bahlik's shoulder, guiding him away from the towering Herkulun.

"Yes, yes," the fat Sylvan replied, letting himself be led away. "Perhaps you are right. I…I do not feel well." As he reached the door, though, he turned back to Sillow.

"You will live to regret this day, peasant," he hissed. "I promise you."

The thin Sylvan ushered him out, and he was gone.

"It is not wise to make such an enemy Silla," their savior said, his ageing face creased in consternation. "But then, you've never listened to me, have you?"

Sillow looked at the hard, yet not unkindly face of the other Sylvan and grinned. "No, Captain Kalil. That's why you threw me out of the academy."

The older Sylvan smiled. "Let's not dwell on the past Silla. We must get this mission underway as soon as possible." He glanced at the Herkulun and nodded.

"Perhaps it is just as well you have found an ally," he said. "The Herkuluns are a noble race, brave and honorable." He gestured toward the large circular seat in the middle of the dim lit chamber. "Please, let's sit down. I have much to tell you."

Sillow complied, indicating for Brok to do the same.

Kalil looked as though he were unsure how to begin. He cleared his throat and moved away from the door. "Silla," he began, "this has been classified until now. The Elesin and his queen are dead."

He gave Sillow a moment for the words to sink in. "Their deaths have been linked to a disease Robert Suliman brought back with him, a kind of fungal parasite. Only the young prince still lives, and that only because he has been placed in stasis."

Sillow jumped. "I—"

Kalil held up a hand. "I know," he said. "It is hard for any of us to accept. Suliman is dead as well; he took his life once he realized what had happened. But, he left us a message." He pulled a transparent piece of plastic from his tunic pocket.

"It seems he had been an unwitting carrier. You see, before he fled New Alexandria—that was the name of the city he said he built—he had somehow made himself immune to the disease."

He sighed. "It seems his tales of monsters were not such a fantasy, after all. They were the product of the alien fungal spores merging with his followers. The ones who didn't die were changed into some kind of terrible hybrid."

Sillow's heart was pounding. "And I'm going back there?"

Kalil looked at him kindly. "Before Suliman fled New Alexandria, he left behind him a research database which, according to his message, contains the cure. He's left detailed descriptions of the city, and instructions on how to …" He paused. "How to enter the Space Gate itself."

He stepped forward. "Sillow, this is the only chance for the royal family to survive. I know we have had our differences in the past, and I know also the mixed feelings you have about your own people, but we need you. The Elesin himself, before he died, said that only you could be trusted with this. The only one who could object is his brother, Prince Tahl, but he is off world somewhere." He looked at the younger Sylvan imploringly.

"He wanted you, Silla. You know how Sylvans are, even those at the academy. They simply do not function well off world. You and I are in a minority, and I … I am too old."

Sillow frowned. "How can I say no?"

"It looks like a dragon," Sillow said, gesturing at the craft that had been prepared for him.

Brok, looking over the ship with a cool eye, could not help but agree. The long design of the ship, with its bodywork of interlocking red and gold metallic scales, certainly gave the impression of the mythical beast Sillow had referred to. Even the landing gear had been shaped to resemble outstretched talons.

With a look of growing disapproval on his face, Brok moved round to the front of the ship. The central view screens were divided in half, the overall design of the cockpit giving the impression of looking into the face of a metallic Dragon. The Herkulun raised a bushy eyebrow, less than impressed.

"You do not find the design—" he searched for the correct word in Amalgam "—ostentatious?" he asked Sillow, throwing a questioning glance at the Sylvan.

His companion grinned and shook his head. "No. I think it's stylish." He turned to Kalil. "How did you come up with a design like this, anyway?"

Kalil looked the ship over. "We didn't," he said simply.

"What do you mean?"

"Aside from some minor adaptations, the craft's entirely relic." Kalil laid a hand on the hull.

Sillow's mouth fell open. "I don't believe it!" he hissed. "The entire ship?"

Kalil nodded. "Sylvan has profited greatly from technology left behind by the ancient races, whoever they were. But this is by far the greatest find we have ever made."

Sillow gave a whistle. "I already said I don't believe it, right?"

Kalil smiled. "We have little time to waste. It is a good idea if you learn about the ship as quickly as possible. I will summon Tar Lin." He lowered his head and whispered something into the com link at his collar, then stood back from the ship.

"Please," he said, gesturing for Sillow and Brok to so the same.

A moment later, a mouth-like hatchway appeared beneath the ship's front view screens and lowered to the floor. Dozens of tiny feet appeared at the entrance.

"What is that?" Brok asked, frowning.

"A Merdine," Sillow shrugged.

A large caterpillar-like creature, its bulbous body a mass of yellows and purples, began to descend the walkway. Brok watched it with fascination.

In all, the creature had about fifteen sets of legs, small, black, jointed sticks with crab-like claws at the ends. The back eleven or so were used for moving the body, with the remaining sets used as hands. In the top set, it held a data display unit that it had been checking. As it reached the bottom, it looked up at them, and Brok was surprised to find that its 'face' consisted of little more than two huge, purple eyes.

The Merdine gave a low bow and addressed Sillow.

"Master Low," it said in a surprisingly erudite voice. "I have been looking forward to meeting you." It turned its bulbous body towards the Herkulun for a brief moment, then to Kalil. "I… did not realize there would be two individuals on the mission."

"Don't worry Tar Lin," Kalil replied. "Change of plans."

Brok stooped to whisper into the Sylvan's ear. "Why do I find myself looking at a giant caterpillar?"

Sillow frowned. "Tar Lin's a Merdine," he replied. "They were engineered to work for us off world."

"Like slaves," Brok said, disapproval in his deep voice.

"No," Sillow shot back defensively. "Like helpers."

"If the two masters would allow me to explain about the craft," Tar Lin interrupted smoothly, cutting short the debate.

Kalil threw the two a stern glance.

"The exterior," the Merdine began, "the shell itself, is exactly as it was found. It is made from a complex mix of alloys; so complex we have been unable to determine the exact make up. Also, remarkably, it seems to have the ability to repair itself."

"Cool. How about speed?" Sillow asked.

"Twice as fast as anything we have developed so far."

Sillow opened his mouth to ask another question but Kalil put a hand on his shoulder to silence him as the Merdine continued his lesson.

"Speed is not the most remarkable of the craft's abilities. It possesses two other things that are beyond all current technologies. The first is a cloaking device, the ability to warp energy waves around itself, making it in effect invisible."

Sillow whistled.

"The second," Tar Lin went on, "is a matter transporter, although it would not be wise to use this on organic matter. Tests have been … inconclusive."

Kalil took his bony hand from Sillow's shoulder. "Incredible, is it not?"

Sillow nodded, more than inclined to agree.

"Now," the Merdine went on in a somewhat obsequious manner, "if you will follow me inside the vessel, I will show you the flight deck."

As they followed him up inside, Sillow managed to give his huge companion a quick translation of the ship's properties.

"I can not believe such a craft is possible," Brok said.

"That's more or less what I said," Sillow replied.

The flight deck was dark and small, though there was still enough room for two pilots, even one of the Herkulun's stature. Brok glanced through an archway behind them and saw a larger, circular room just off the flight deck. It was done in lighter colors, and seemed designed for relaxation. No doubt there were other chambers in the ship's belly.

"Only the interior design and the flight deck controls have been changed," Tar Lin explained. "The ship, you will find, is easy to control." The Merdine waved a pincer, indicated an onyx colored control panel.

"What about the onboard computer?" Sillow asked. "That can't be original, can it?"

"Yes, young master," Tar Lin replied, "it is. But, like the ships propulsion systems, we do not yet fully understand it, although we have been able make it function." The Merdine sounded almost apologetic.

Sillow jumped into the seat and ran his small hands over the controls. "So, everything me and Brok need to know about the mission is locked up in here?"

"Yes, young master. There is also this."

Sillow spun round in his chair to find the Merdine holding what looked like a small pen. "What's that thing?"

Kalil stepped forward.

"There isn't enough time for you to learn all the information you need, and, well… Some of the council thought you might take a less than professional approach to your briefing, given your loose cannon reputation and all that. So Tar Lin came up with this device. It will imprint the knowledge you need directly into your brain."

"How does it work?"

Kalil nodded to the Merdine and the creature placed the tip of the pen to Sillow's eye. A moment later a small flash erupted, and Sillow jumped in his seat.

"Hey!" he shouted, rubbing his eye. "That stings!"

"It will soon pass," Kalil assured him. "You now know everything you need to know concerning the mission."

He looked at the Merdine. "That will be all," he said dismissively.

The slug-like creature gave a low bow. "Very well, Master Kalil."

No one watched the bulbous servant as he oozed through the entrance, so no one noticed the change in his demeanor. As soon as he considered himself unobserved, his obsequiousness vanished. In its place was resentment—and anger.